Dilandau lay silent and still on his luxurious bed under his black satin and velvet blankets and sheets, staring at the dark ceiling of his under ground chambers. He took a deep breath only slightly acknowledging the extra pressure on his chest. He sighed off his emotions, exhaling his thoughts with his hot breath as he crept his strong arms around the two women who were naked, beside to him, their sleeping heads resting on his chest, and expensive coverings draped over their voluptuous curves. He was overly disappointed in their performance with him, as he thought that maybe having two would be better then just one woman alone. He had thought that maybe they would be less nervous about being with him and let loose, but like every time before he was led to hold false hopes. It wasn't that they were bad or anything, they had just given themselves, so quickly, and willingly to him. No fight at all which always had excited him the most, he cursed his intimidating reputation he had worked so hard to achieve. He allowed his mind wander freely though his memories of past battles and other women, more interesting women. He finally met a figure that over whelmed him still.
A mere shadow encased in flames, floating on the dancing arms of the dangerous element a few inches above the ground. Their thin yet clearly muscular arms were held slightly away from the body being pushed out by impossible heat as long luxurious hair was being carried upwards in the flames, becoming one with the fire as it traveled to and fro without care or caution for the world outside the impressive spectacle of fire. The Fire Goddess. As she was known throughout Gaea as being just as dangerous as Dilandau though a little more compassionate and less whimsical. Though she was just as ruthless, if not more so, she was aggressive, commanding, and incredibly influencal to the world around her through her powers.
The sorcerers were working on a device that would bring her to them, back from the Mystic Moon, where she had went only two years ago. ' But oh how much can change,' Dilandau thought as his own fire burst inside of him filling him with anger and rage, and an empty hole which needed to be quenched soon by some immortal passion.
She and Dilandau had worked side by side on missions concerning death and violence. He had been her General, she one of his personal Dragon Slayers. But she was the only person that he had ever met in his short violent lifetime who would not, or could not submit themselves willing to him. Her element was strong and ruthless, his passion her power, and such a force would never bow down easily, to anyone. Her defiance had shocked and scared the other Slayers, yet intrigued him. She was a goddess with demonic powers, and she had not once yielded to him easily, if ever at all. Dilandau smirked; he had obsessed about the idea of owning her control over his element, owning her. But she had somehow left him in the middle of battle, for that she would pay dearly. Dilandau's malicious grin fell as he remembered that horrific time
The city of Jeruka, the stronghold fortress of a bordering country had issued, even though they were said to be rebel action, attacks of Ziabach trading posts and villages.
Dilandau and his Dragon Slayers had been bored with their vacation from their bloody work when they were informed of the insult.
The Dragon Slayers and their General, having proved themselves numerous times and being the reason Ziabach having kept the little land it had for the past year or so as other countries were growing restless with the threat of this empire, Dilandau and his men had the privilege to act freely whenever they chose to, which was often enough. They could chose to arrive at a battle they were not ordered to go to, or start one all their own if they saw fit. And Dilandau, being the vicious blood and power thirsty young man he was, saw fit to start and finish numerous battles.
And this one he chose to start in a vengeful fury only he could contain, but only for a few short minutes.
"Shall we show them what happens to those who insult our nation?" Fyre asked quietly over the COM unit. Quiet, yes that was how she was before a battle, but not during, but always after. Dilandau remembered as thought yesterday, she was never quiet any another time.
"Why yes I think that would be amusing, for now." Dilandau replied his intensity growing every second, his senses honing in on his first kill.
"You mean until they all lay dead before us." Fyre hissed.
"Precisely." And with that he had attacked in a blazing glory, his Melf shooting forth a fiery line.
"Amateur." He heard the cool female voice taunt.
He had watched as his own flame had curled up, spiraling towards the sky before flashing back down into the heart of the city with such a force that it was forced through the streets and alleyways below them, making sure no one was left alive, at least in the center of the urban area.
Leading his Slayers into the torched heart of the population to kill the civilians, soldiers, men, women, and children alike. As all who opposed Ziabach, opposed Dilandau, and all who dared to do that died.
Fyre's Guymelf was off a little ways from the rest of them, she had crushed a building in her descent and now stood on it's ruble.
Dilandau didn't know it but she had been planning quite a spectacle she had never attempted before, and little did she know, her performance was about to get out of hand, even for her.
Fyre had concentrated hard, at least she had looked to be doing so, leaving her defense but who of these mere peasants and mortals could harm even her man made machine. Her Melf had been engineered to feed off of her power and withstand great heats but she'd never tried what she was about to attempt before, and although he had assumed later on that she had known that it would be beautiful she should have hoped her weapon would at least be left in one piece. Heat was radiating off of her, Dilandau had felt it and turned to figure out what the hell she was up to. Her heat was forcing all opposing forces away from the scorching metal of her machine. Fyre had opened the hatch and stood there her arms spread wide and her face angled up to where the red sun met the silhouette of the Mystic Moon. Her curve less body shining from the blazing sun, the only thing he knew of that she envied.
Fire blasted forward up and away from her torso as sweat beaded down her forehead, the heat was bothering even her as she molded the ball of flame that flew up into the clouds.
Dilandau had seen the concentration crunching at her facial features and looked upward to see the most amazing sight he had lain eyes.
A bird, a great bird larger then his Melf soared down. Screeching and roaring as it's fiery feathers conformed to it as it streaked down it's molten claws outstretched read for the kill.
It had hit in front of him, the heat threw him back as he heard agonized screams of human beings being cooked alive by one of his own.
The battle broke with the creation of the majestic monstrosity Fyre had created out of sheer will and power, which was well and good because by the time they were finished not only did her phoenix appear smaller but the sorceress herself looked about to faint.
And her Melf…the metal had melted around her and was now no more then a molten lump on two legs. All of the metal had fled her heat and she lay curled, sweating and shaking slightly in the small crater her body had constructed in the center of the massive lump.
"What have you done?" Dilandau remembered screaming as his own beast pushed over her now useless hunk of junk.
Fyre rolled a couple dozen feet without complaint, and suffered through Dilandau's beatings once he himself was on the ground before her.
"It was beautiful." Fyre had whispered with a smile after another kick to her ribs.
Dilandau remembered hesitating at that comment, oh how beautiful it had been, how much he longed to see such a creature again, but she would not hear his praises, not today.
"You call that beautiful?" He demanded wanting her to hurt as he was. Why didn't he have that power, why couldn't he control the element he loved so much. And why had she felt the need to destroy one of HIS Guymelfs! "You are more beautiful then that horrendous beast. What was it anyway?" Dilandau mocked knowing the quickest way to anger her was to insult her prized control and imaginative flaming creations, knowing that she knew how unattractive he found her. Pride would always be her weakness, that was why she would never be worthy of his praises, she was weak.
"What are you talking about?" Fyre had snapped back struggling to sit up.
Dilandau could see her childish tears form in her mind as smoke filled his lung and the final sounds of death settled into the world around them.
"It was a disgusting attempt, I thought that even you could manage something at least a little more presentable then that." Dilandau snorted in disgust.
"Shut up." Fyre whispered.
"What was that?" Dilandau raised his eyebrows.
"Shut up!" Fyre shouted as she stood up, heat radiated off of her heating up the new battlefield set by her own General. "You don't know what you are talking about, you can't even touch a hot stone without being burned!" She growled hitting Dilandau's own weak spot. His desire for power and his contempt of her gift.
"I don't understand why you got such gifts, you have no talent what so ever, the gods must be disgraced and embarrassed about mistaking you." "My powers are my own." Fyre shot back oh how she had hated the thought of being given such things to so someone else's work, especially the gods, who had abandoned her and made her an outcast her entire life.
"You are but a servant. For them and for me." "I don't need you! And I'll prove it." "Where will you go, no one would even look at you it is wasn't for me." Dilandau stated smugly, how true it was, how regular people feared her and hated her.
"I don't need you." She repeated. Her voice low and her eyes empty.
She began to glow and Dilandau remembered how his Slayers had been alarmed thinking that she was going to burn them all alive like she had just done to many innocent people, and they were far from innocent.
Before his men had even finished reacting she was gone.
The moment she got back, Dilandau thought through his anger, the first smart ass comment that came from her lips he would beat her into her very first submission. NO ONE deserts the Dragon Slayers, or their General, the way she did. A sadistic smirk over came the General and he pulled the two wench's closer to him, feeling them slowly wake under his touch, and from that moment on he thought of nothing other then how they would give themselves to him once more before they would be allowed to leave his room.